


Crawl

by hyperion



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Light Bondage, M/M, Rimming, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-15
Updated: 2010-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperion/pseuds/hyperion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames might not be Arthur's type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crawl

**Author's Note:**

> So [](http://ember-firedrake.livejournal.com/profile)[**ember_firedrake**](http://ember-firedrake.livejournal.com/) said in this particularly awesome post (<http://ember-firedrake.livejournal.com/168320.html>), "I want Arthur to seem cool and a little detached towards all of Eames’ flirting before he tells Eames that he does, in fact, have an imagination, and if Eames is serious about his flirting then he’ll have to wait until Arthur says he can come." This is that story.

Arthur had not always been the self-possessed man he was today. When he was younger, like everyone else, he had been listless and wandering and so anxious that he could hardly sit still long enough to go to sleep. He had joined the military because there was not much else to do in his small hometown when he turned eighteen, and that had been the turning point in his life. He learned his limits and what he was capable of, and he gained confidence in himself because if he could survive all that the army had to offer, the rest of his life would be easy. This lesson also included his dishonorable discharge from the army because another soldier saw Arthur kissing a male officer.

To be honest, Arthur would always be bitter about that betrayal. However, he could appreciate that time in his life because it had made him himself. Instead of being a depressed alcoholic with more kids than he could afford and wife he only married because he knocked her up like so many of his high school classmates, Arthur was the man in tailored suits that cost more than most of the cars in his tiny hometown. He was the man who knew what he liked, what he wanted, and could get it.

More than anything, Arthur knew exactly who he was, which was why he had such trouble getting along with Eames. Eames evidently was insecure. Why else would he enjoy being everyone else as much as he did if he were not at least a little bit uncomfortable with himself? And Eames himself was a problem all his own, because Eames was obnoxious and overbearing and clearly had no self-awareness or self-control. His constant joking spoke of his overall lack of confidence, and the fact that he almost always joked about getting Arthur in bed made Arthur question whether he could actually handle the kind of relationship Arthur required.

For his part, Arthur kindly turned Eames down the first few times, and when that did not seem to work, he asserted himself more clearly. This of course led to a steady decline in their relationship until it was contentious, at best. Arthur was steadfast and calm in the face of Eames’ flirting and picking, but he was beginning to feel deranged because all he really wanted to do was give Eames a sharp kick to the shin.

When Eames sidled up to Arthur’s table, closed Arthur’s laptop so quickly that Arthur nearly lost a finger, and demanded frequent and exhaustive sexual attention, Arthur wanted to snap at him that he should literally take his own cock and shove it up his own ass. Instead, Arthur decided that today, this harassment would end.

He stood up and calmly placed his hands on Eames’ shoulders, earnestly asking, “Are you serious?”

Eames smirked at him. “Of course. A good fuck is no laughing matter.”

“Eames, if I can be completely honest with you, you’re not my kind of man.”

Eames had very few tells, but Arthur knew that he had jackhammered a nerve of insecurity by the way Eames pursed his lips before asking, “Really, love? And what kind of man might you be looking for?”

“If I could ask for one thing from you, one, it would be self-control. Give me that and you might be what I want.”

Eames was clearly insulted by the idea that Arthur found him lacking and deflected with an insult of his own. “Self-control? What a piteously simple thing to ask. Then again, you never were very creative, were you, darling?”

Arthur’s first instinct was to pin Eames to the table and show him just how much he probably did not want what he was asking for, but Arthur absolutely refused to let Eames affect him so strongly. “ _Darling_ ,” he said, hands tightening just a bit on Eames’ shoulders, “you have no idea how creative I can be. And if you’re serious about all of this bullshit flirting, you will not come until I say so.”

Arthur released Eames and sat back down, opening his laptop while Eames came to terms with that. Eames frowned and walked away, but Arthur did not hear the door. Instead, after a moment’s hesitation, Eames stomped back to Arthur’s table and crossed his arms defensively.

“Are you serious?” Eames asked.

“Absolutely.”

“All I have to do is prove to you that I have some self-control, and you’ll let me fuck you.”

Arthur looked up from his work, being very careful to speak evenly and clearly. “Prove to my satisfaction that you can control yourself, and any subsequent sexual positions are negotiable. Though I don’t imagine you’ll be in any condition to actually fuck me by the time I’m satisfied.”

“How long do I have to wait to come?”

Arthur looked back at his computer screen and the printouts he had accumulated, estimating how much work still needed to be done. “I should be done in two days.”

Eames looked shocked at being asked to wait that long, but then he found a loophole. “And just how will you know that I haven’t cheated?”

“Because,” Arthur replied, “you’ll tell me.”

Eames glared at Arthur’s certainty and left. The next day, he completely ignored Arthur, which was a welcome change in their relationship while Arthur was working. When Arthur took a break to get coffee, he stopped by Ariadne’s workroom where Eames was busy entertaining her with stories near-misses while she constructed mazes.

“I’m going on a coffee run. Do you want me to pick you up anything?”

Ariadne’s head popped up from her work so that she could smile at Arthur in gratitude. “Café au lait, please.”

“And what about you, Mr. Eames?” Arthur asked when Eames sulked.

“Piss off.”

Ariadne hung her head over her maze. “It’s going to be tense around here for a week, isn’t it?”

Eames looked a little contrite at having upset Ariadne, but then he turned it into a glare just for Arthur. “Not my fault this time, pet,” he said to her.

Ariadne smiled at him indulgently, like she did not quite believe him. “Whatever is going on between the two of you, you keep it out of my space. This is a drama free zone.”

“No need to worry, Ariadne,” Arthur soothed. “I expect that the drama will be over by tomorrow evening.”

Ariadne had a very expressive face, and this particular expression involved wrinkling her nose a bit with confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Eames is just a little cranky because I won’t let him come,” Arthur explained.

Her wrinkled-nose confusion gave way to wide-eyed surprise. She looked at Eames, who was practically glowering in confirmation at Arthur now. “O-oh,” she stuttered. “Well, I guess that’s…huh.”

“It is indeed,” Eames grumbled.

Arthur left and returned with his own coffee, Ariadne’s, and an espresso for Eames. Ariadne found an excuse to leave them alone, and Arthur gingerly handed the cup to Eames, preparing for a quick escape in case Eames threw it at him.

“You really couldn’t resist gloating, could you?” Eames complained as he drank his espresso.

Arthur almost smiled. “I do admit that it feels good to be in this position. Though, if I really did offend you, I’m sorry.”

“Offend me?” Arthur had never actually heard anyone _pfft_ before, and it was awesome. “Did you see the look on Ariadne’s face? It was priceless. Well, not worth the price of me being exceedingly horny, and now,” he lifted the cup, “horny and caffeinated with nothing to be done about it.”

If there was a little extra bounce in Arthur’s step as he walked away, it was only because he could feel Eames staring at his ass.

“When this is over, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll be limping for days,” Eames shouted after Arthur.

“Oh my God, I can still hear you!” Ariadne yelled from whatever part of the warehouse she had taken refuge in.

Yusuf had apparently arrived some time during Arthur’s and Eames’ conversation, and he stood near the door with a befuddled look on his face as Arthur walked by. “That’s really…huh.”

“It is indeed,” came Ariadne’s call.

The second day was better and worse. Eames was still miserably horny, but now he was optimistic and his powers of annoyance seemed to have returned.

“Can I come yet?”

“No.”

“…Can I come yet?”

“No.”

“… . . . Can I come yet?”

“No.”

When Eames opened his mouth again, Arthur put his hand over it. “If you ask me that question one more time, you won’t be coming until tomorrow. At the soonest.”

Eames was frowning when Arthur pulled his hand away. “Don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he moped. “I should just go find someone less demanding.”

“Whatever you wish,” Arthur said simply, refusing to play into Eames self-pity.

“This had better be good, what you have planned.”

Arthur stared at his computer screen, judging how much time his task would take. “If you will wait five more hours, you’ll find out.”

Eames groaned miserably. “I’ve already waited too long. You know, that morning, I was in a hurry and didn’t even have a wank in the shower.”

Arthur considered Eames’ plight for a moment. When he came to a decision, he stood up from his chair and straddled Eames’ lap, wrapping his arms around Eames’ broad shoulders. “You’re lack of a morning wank is not my problem. However, aside from your general behavior, you have been a good boy for me.”

“The best,” Eames readily agreed.

“So, I can give you a reward now if you want.”

Eames nodded and Arthur kissed him. It was the hot, open-mouth, tongues and hands everywhere kind of kiss. Arthur was running a hand through Eames’ hair when Eames grabbed Arthur’s ass and pulled him forward into Eames’ erection. Arthur let Eames grind their hips together, knowing that Eames was only making this harder on himself. When Eames shifted just so and found a particularly pleasurable spot, Arthur bit Eames’ bottom lip and tugged. It slipped from between his teeth and Eames soothed the sting out of it with his own tongue.

Someone taking a deep breath to Arthur’s left caught his attention. Ariadne was standing there, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and Yusuf was behind her looking uncomfortable but curious.

“It’s hot, right?” Ariadne asked, not quite turning her head toward Yusuf enough to take her eyes off Eames and Arthur.

“I suppose some would find this scenario arousing,” Yusuf mused.

Ariadne tapped the toe of her ballet flat once before marching off. “I’ll be in my bunk.”

Yusuf’s eyebrows climbed his forehead and he followed her. “You have a bunk here?”

“I think that’s our sign to stop,” Arthur said, straightening Eames’ hair. Eames pouted, giving Arthur’s ass one last squeeze before letting him go. Arthur was impressed that he had given him up so quickly, but maybe Eames did have some sense of self-control.

Arthur spent the next five hours compiling everything he had learned about their next target into something cohesive with few interruptions. By the time he was done, his eyes were tired and his neck hurt. On a day like this, he would typically go home, take a hot bath, and lie on the couch naked with a bottle of red wine and his favorite music. However, he had Eames to think about, and the promise of especially gratifying sex was motivating.

Eames was by his side as soon as Arthur closed his laptop. “Time to go?”

“Let me pack up and we’ll be on our way.”

“What can I do to make this go faster?”

Arthur smiled and shook his head, putting his laptop and a sheaf of papers in his case. “Ready.”

Eames took Arthur by the arm and led him out of warehouse, only to stop outside. “Where do you live again?”

“This way,” Arthur said, directing Eames east. Arthur tried to make conversation, but Eames was focused in a way that Arthur had never seen before. He was getting turned on by the intensity, and he wondered what it would be like to be like to be on the receiving end of it. They arrived at Arthur’s apartment building quickly and Arthur brought them to the third floor. His apartment was at the end of the hall, and he had also rented the apartment next to it just so he would not have to deal with noisy neighbors. It was one of his favorite investments.

Arthur stopped outside his door, keys in hand, and faced Eames. “A few rules before we start: One – you do not come until I give you permission.”

“Yes, we’ve already been over that,” Eames said impatiently.

Arthur ignored the interruption. “Two – you do not touch yourself. Three – you do not touch me. Four – if at any time you do not want something or if you want to stop all of this, you must tell me immediately. Agreed?”

“What happens if I break any of your rules?”

“If you break rule two or three, I’ll determine an appropriate punishment. If you break rule one, I’ll be disappointed and we’ll stop for the night. If you break rule four, it will be the end of our sexual relationship.”

“Right, then,” Eames agreed, “I believe you owe me sex.”

Arthur opened the door to his apartment and led Eames inside. When the door was closed and locked, Arthur gave his first order: “Get naked.” This was quickly followed by a second, “Be neat,” when Eames stripped off his shirt and dropped it to the floor. Eames rolled his eyes at Arthur’s fussiness and picked up his shirt, folding it.

“And where would you like me to put my clothes?” Eames asked as he kicked off his shoes.

“You can leave your shoes by the door. Take your clothes to the bathroom, that door there, and put them in the hamper. Then I’ll run a bath for you.”

Eames frowned, tilting his head to sniff himself. “I smell fine,” he announced.

Arthur had no clue if Eames was really that boorish or if he was doing it on purpose just to annoy him, but Arthur managed not to react. “As attractive as that was, that’s really not the point. I’m giving you a bath because I want to.” The truth was that Arthur was an attentive lover who got a thrill out of taking care of his boyfriends, and Eames was going to have to get used to it.

Eames seemed to weigh his options, and Arthur knew that he decided cooperating would get him off faster than not when Eames said, “Fine. Just make it quick, all right?”

Arthur smiled and followed him to the bathroom where Eames finished undressing and put his clothes in the hamper while Arthur rolled up his sleeves and made sure the water was temperature for a bath. Eames sized up the claw-foot tub warily. “Kind of small for the both of us, isn’t it?”

Arthur stood and let the tub fill, putting a hand on the small of Eames’ back. “That’s why this is a bath just for you.”

Eames groaned, reaching for Arthur’s hips. However, he remembered their deal and dropped his hands, groaning again. “I’m never going to get to see you naked,” he complained.

Arthur turned the faucet off, gesturing for Eames to get in the bath. “I can make you come without being naked. Not that I will right now.” When Eames tried to complain again, Arthur shushed him. “Just enjoy this.”

Eames settled into the tub, purposefully silent. Arthur picked up a cup on the edge of the tub and filled it with water. “Tilt your head back for me.” When Eames complied, Arthur poured it over his hair and then did it again to make sure all of it was wet. Then he poured a little shampoo into his hands and began to wash Eames’ hair. This was his favorite part, because even though Eames did in fact smell great in his own soaps and colognes, Arthur loved stripping all that away and covering Eames in all of Arthur’s own familiar scents.

He rinsed the shampoo out and worked conditioner in, noticing that Eames seemed a little more relaxed now. Arthur rinsed his hands in the bathwater and raised one to Eames’ cheek, drawing him in for another kiss. It was tender and chaste, and not at all in indication of what was to come.

When Arthur pulled away, Eames said, “This isn’t exactly what I was expecting.” Arthur did not respond, just rinsed the conditioner out of his hair. “It’s not bad, though.”

Done with Eames’ hair, Arthur plucked one of the washcloths from the shelf near the bath and picked up his favorite soap. This one had mild notes of milk and honey and Arthur loved it because only people close enough for Arthur to feel their breath on his skin could smell it. Even though Eames had annoyed Arthur nearly every day that they had worked together, Arthur had fantasized more frequently about Eames’s breath at his throat.

Putting that thought aside for later, Arthur began washing Eames, starting with his shoulders and chest. He found Eames tattoos fascinating, like they were an encryption to decode and would tell Arthur the story of Eames’ life if only he knew how to read them. Arthur knew everything about Eames that was on paper, but he would love to know what was in Eames’ head.

“One day, you’re going to tell me about these,” Arthur said, washing over the masks on Eames’ chest.

“They’re all very long stories. Some of them are very drunk stories.”

Arthur washed lower, loving the feel of Eames’ flesh through the cloth. Eames was a massive man, and Arthur did always fall for the ones who were much bigger than him. When Arthur washed low enough for Eames to cant his hips in anticipation, he pulled his hand away and had Eames sit up so that Arthur could wash his back.

“Bloody tease,” Eames mumbled, but he sighed pleasantly while Arthur washed his back.

Arthur then skipped all the way to Eames’ feet and worked his way up, switching between Eames’ legs as he went. When he finally made it to Eames’ cock, Arthur wrapped his hand around the hard length and Eames groaned loudly at the rough texture of the washcloth. Arthur pulled it across the sensitive skin and Eames gripped the sides of the tub to keep from touching either of them.

“Don’t come,” Arthur reminded him. “Tell me when it gets to be too much.”

Eames gritted his teeth as Arthur rubbed the cloth over the head of Eames’ dick, but he did not ask Arthur to stop. Arthur jacked him slowly a few more times before moving lower to Eames’ balls. Eames almost immediately stiffened, crying, “That’s enough,” and Arthur drew back to Eames’ inner thigh, rubbing small circles on the muscle there while Eames sorted himself. When Eames relaxed a little, Arthur pressed his washcloth covered fingers to Eames’ opening, making him shudder with a different sort of stimulation.

“Are you ready to dry off?” Arthur asked.

The look Eames gave him as a reply was inscrutable. Arthur imagined Eames was either calling him an idiot for asking or cursing him again for being a tease.

“Come on,” Arthur directed, wringing out the washcloth and draping it over the faucet to dry. Then he pulled the plug at the bottom of the tub and stood up, extending a hand to help Eames up.

“Thought I wasn’t supposed to touch you,” Eames said petulantly.

“I’m offering you the opportunity, but don’t overstep your bounds.”

Eames took his hand and pulled himself up. Arthur let go of him as soon as he was steady, and then he took a towel off the shelf and held it open for Eames to step into. Arthur made short work of drying off Eames, paying no special attention to any one part of him. When he was done, he hung the towel up to dry on the rack below the shelf and put his hand on Eames’ back, leading him into the bedroom.

“On your back on the bed, make yourself comfortable.”

Eames lay on the bed, settling into the firm pillows while Arthur opened a trunk at the foot of the bed. “What do you have there, love?”

“Do you think you can keep your hands off us both, or should I tie you up?”

“Are you going to tie me up with your silk ties?” Eames asked with a grin.

Arthur pulled out a set of black, padded leather cuffs linked by a chain and police-issue steel handcuffs. “Not exactly.”

“What the hell do you have in that trunk?” Eames asked, sitting up so he could see better.

“Lie down.” Eames looked as if he were tempted to test Arthur’s resolve so he could see all the other toys Arthur had, but he settled back against the pillows again. “So, should I leave you to your strength of will or would you like some help?”

Weighing his options, Eames decided that he would enjoy being bound and not only because it ensured that Arthur would not stop because Eames slipped up. “Leather.”

Arthur put the handcuffs away and closed the trunk. “Ask me nicely for what you need,” Arthur ordered as he moved onto the bed, crawling up Eames’ body.

“Please, tie me up, darling.”

Arthur positioned Eames’ hands above his head at the bars of the wrought iron headboard he had bought for just this purpose. The cuffs had straps that he could adjust and buckles that were difficult – but not impossible – to open with one hand. Then he dismounted and started taking off his clothes neatly and efficiently. He watched Eames’ face while he undressed, loving the hungry look as Eames stared at each new piece of exposed flesh and the way Eames pulled at the cuffs like he had forgotten that they were there.

“Knees up,” Arthur said, and Eames responded immediately. “I fantasized about this the moment we met, and then you opened your mouth,” he explained as he settled between Eames’ legs. “Then I fantasized about shoving my cock in your mouth to shut you up.”

“That’s probably the one thing that would do it,” Eames conceded.

Arthur knelt between Eames’ thighs and he pulled Eames a little closer. His lips ghosted over Eames’ erection, drawing a hiss from the other man. However, Arthur did not stop to blow him. He continued down, nuzzling Eames’ balls with his nose for a moment before dipping below.

He kissed Eames open, pressing his lips and then his tongue against Eames’ body. Arthur’s mouth was very sensitive, and he could not get enough of the way each wrinkle felt against it or how the muscle moved to accommodate the rough strokes of his tongue. From the way Eames’ breath hitched as he tried not to cry out, he was as turned on by it as Arthur was. When Arthur pressed his tongue inside, Eames moaned and rocked his hips as much as he could to the rhythm of licks and darts.

Arthur pulled his tongue back and slipped a finger inside of Eames. He continued to use his mouth to stimulate the outer ring of muscle while his finger found his way to Eames’s prostate. Arthur gently stroked the little bud, and only quick reflexes saved him from Eames’ thighs as they tried to close in on him.

“I’m gonna come!” Eames howled. “I’m gonna come if you don’t stop. Please, stop.”

Arthur pulled away from Eames slowly, feeling a surge in his cock from the power trip. Eames had spent years taunting Arthur with all the ways he could get off, and now he was begging Arthur not to make him come because Arthur had not yet given him permission.

“You can come when I’m inside you,” Arthur allowed as he reached for the condom and lube in the bedside table. He rolled on the condom and slicked himself, and then he finally entered Eames. They both groaned loudly, Eames because he was close and Arthur because he had not come either since he told Eames he could not.

They were both desperate by this point, and Arthur’s fast and hard pace came naturally. The chain between the Eames’ cuffs rattled against the headboard with each thrust, and Eames hitched his legs around Arthur’s waist for greater purchase. Eames was coming in a matter of moments because of the deeper angle, legs tightening around Arthur until he could barely move. Arthur looked down to see rope after rope of come shoot from Eames’ cock, some landing as high as his chest.

When Eames relaxed his legs enough for Arthur to continue, Arthur licked a stripe of come off Eames’ chest and drove in harder, getting a shudder and a little more come out of Eames. Arthur pumped in and out of him as deeply as he could, and Eames’ body warm and lax and welcoming beneath him finally got him off. It wrung so much out of him that Arthur collapsed on top of Eames, breath erratic.

He actually might have fallen asleep there if Eames had not disturbed him with, “Arthur love, if I have to sleep in these cuffs, I’m sure I’ll end up with bruises so suggestive that Ariadne will blush all the way down to her pretty little nipples before disappearing into the bathroom again.”

“What do you know about Ariadne’s nipples?” Arthur mumbled against Eames’ skin.

Instead of answering, Eames added, “Also, we will stick together.”

Arthur looked up at Eames with a sneer and an undignified, “Ew.”

He reached up and released Eames from his cuffs, taking them to put away. When he sat up, Eames asked, “Can I touch you now?”

“Yeah, the scene is done,” Arthur said. He would forever blame the mind-blowing orgasm for making him turn his back on Eames, as he was soundly tackled across the bed, Eames lying over him and practically purring in contentment.

“You were right. There’s no way I could get it up now to fuck you. But tomorrow? Tomorrow marks the first day that you don’t sit comfortably.”

Arthur snorted. “Make good on that threat and I’ll milk your prostate until you cry.”

“You’re a right toppy bastard, you know that?”

“Of course. Now get off me before we get stuck like this.”

When everything was put away and Arthur and Eames were clean again, they fell asleep with Eames in Arthur’s arms. Though Arthur had spent the past several years hardly getting along with Eames, he decided that it was worth it to get what he wanted: Eames quiet and peaceful and his.


End file.
